


what you feel is what you are, and what you are is beautiful

by freewithme



Category: Glee
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5421275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freewithme/pseuds/freewithme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn and Rachel going through /that/ thing a lot of relationships go through. Being an adult fucking sucks. [Complete]</p>
            </blockquote>





	what you feel is what you are, and what you are is beautiful

**Finn and Rachel going through that _thing_  a lot of relationships go through. Being an adult sometimes fucking sucks.**

**For seamountain. She asked for something based on "Slide" by the Goo Goo Dolls and for it to be somewhat cryptic. This is... kind of it? Like, loosely based. I mean, really. _Loosely_. Hint: I am using the word "loosely" loosely. But anyways! I love you, boo. :***

-.-.-

-.-

**what you feel is what you are**

**and what you are is beautiful**

-.-

His phone rings at 3am.

Finn wakes up, blinking the sleep away from his eyes and body.

Something happened, this is never a good sign.

Checking his phone, he sees Rachel’s face and number.

“Rach?” he answers, his voice scratchy from sleep.

“Finn…” she says, voice hurt and confused, and he hates that he instantly recognises it. “Can you come over?”

“’Course. I’ll be right there, babe. Hang on.”

She sighs, “Okay.”

~.~

They’re sitting on her bed. Limbs collected to themselves. No attempts at touching or even speaking for the last couple of minutes.

What can one say, really?

It makes her stomach twist and turn. She fucking _hates_ this situation and what it has done to them.

~~

_Finn hurries through Rachel’s building, saying hello to a very curious doorman._

_He picks up the keys she gave him long ago and opens the door to her apartment only to find a very upset Rachel sitting on the couch, a bunch of small boxes all over her coffee table._

_“What’s the matter, honey?”_

_He comes closer and realises what boxes actually are._

_“Oh. Shit.”_

_She nods, tears still flowing from her eyes as she reaches her hands for him._

_“Finn…”_

_He quickly forces his body towards hers and takes her hands._

_“It’s okay, baby. We’ll figure this out.”_

_She pouts through her tears and clings to his hands, nails digging into his skin._

~.~

She has her legs crossed, left elbow resting on left leg, fingertips with nails painted a soft lilac almost entirely stuffed into her mouth, her nerves and anxiety taking the best of her, making her clink her teeth and chip her nail polish ever so lightly, trying to set it as perfectly when a slice comes up.

Her knees are going up and down, up and down, almost as fast as her heart.

He has his head on his hands, body folded on the edge of the bed. He could reach the floor with his head if he just wanted to lean all the way down. It seems funny, thinking it a takes a single movement to reach the bottom.

(Still, it’s comforting to know that there’s no way but up, right?)

She glances at him for a split second and then pushes her fingertips against her temple, dragging her hand down her face and neck and biting her lips from the inside out, trying to hold her frustration inside, but not succeeding at the moment.

“Jesus Christ, say something!”

He’s startled, looking at her with wide and, dare she say, fearful eyes. He opens his eyes to speak, but words fail him, making him clamp his mouth shut and shake his head, shoving his head on his hands again, finger dragging and pulling his hair hard enough she can sense the dissatisfaction and frustration coming off of him in waves.

She tries again, inhaling and exhaling to try to control her nerves and unjustified anger. It’s not like _he_ did anything by himself or anything. It’s not like this was some fucked up schemed of his to screw them over at the moment.

She’s quiet now and tries to sound apologetic, “Finn…?”

He stops pulling his hair and looks at her, eyes still wide. His look shows that he’s lost and she truly _hates_ that this is happening right now.

She can’t take the intensity of his pain filled gaze, so she closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so angry.”

His voice is quiet, barely a whisper, “It’s okay, Rach. I’m upset, too.”

Tears suddenly start to blurry vision and she blinks fast, trying to get rid of them. They’re not welcomed right now.

“What are we going to do?”

He sighs, “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“I…” she starts, not even sure what to say.

“Yeah?”

“I…” she huffs, annoyed that this is even an issue right. She does need this headache right now. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. Do you want some time to think? Some space?”

“No!” she hurries. “No, I do not want any space right now. I need you _right here_ with me.”

At her confession, he reaches his right hand towards her, smoothing it over her bright pink duvet, going as slow as he can so she has plenty of time to reject his touch if she doesn’t want it.

She goes for the kill and grabs his hand, desperately squeezing it and trying to control her breathing at the same time. That attempt is useless and she’s left panting with sheer emotion.

She drags her legs up in a slice of a second, pushing her small body against his big and welcoming one, throwing her weak self against his solid presence, taking deep and shuddering breaths whilst he whispers again her ear that everything will be okay.

She’s not so sure. This has the power to bring down their relationship if they are unable to hold on to each other for whatever reason.

_Fuck_.

~.~

The next day, they wake up together, bodies squeezed against each other, her legs between his and her head against his chest. Him, being a light sleeper, wakes up first. He feels her stir against him and for a second he holds his breath, trying to stand still and not further wake her up because he does _not_ want to have such a heavy discussion right now. He knows it has to happen, but he just… ugh, doesn’t want to deal right now.

He needs just a little more time.

Not when he’s feeling a light cold breeze coming through the door and window cracks. Not when a thin rain is falling down the window glass, tapping water droplets to a beat that somehow meets the one inside his head. A melody that is constant and forces itself to be felt (and heard) ever since he met her.

This morning is comfortable and just cold enough to make his insides feel some sort of twisted peace that has been with him for a while now.

Cold and rainy mornings are his favourites.

He almost feels happy. Almost. But then he remembers last night.

He doesn’t want to be the first one to say anything because he has to make sure that _she_ is fine right now. He was never one to care too much about himself, really. Being angry and bitter and jaded and just… fucking sick and done with all this bullshit, all of this was taking so much space inside himself he never knew it was possible to let anyone in.

But then he met her. And she didn’t ask for an invitation.

She just came in and coloured his life whether he liked it or not. And he didn’t… at first, but then he found out it was impossible to live without her giddy and joyful self, making the moments they spent together transfer her happiness and bliss to his own body. And he took it all in, never once looking back.

Drinking her presence was the best thing he ever did.

She raises her head, yawning and closing her eyes. Resting her chin against his chest, her hands curling against his t-shirt, she looks deep into his eyes.

She whispers, “Hi.”

“Hey, you,” he whispers back, smiling softly at her and pushing her bangs out of her eyes.

He keeps his hand against her face, rubbing his thumb on her upper cheek, trying to communicate his love and devotion to her, trying to make her feel better. She knows he’s not as good with talking about feelings as she is, so she gets it.

She understands him, through and through.

His emotions are so powerful that she has to close her eyes, leaning against his hand and trying to reciprocate his sentiments, reaching towards his own face and rubbing her small hands against his stubble.

They stay like that for a few minutes, just touching each other and trying to connect with their touches since they know words could never be as fulfilling.

He clears his throat and she opens her eyes to look at him.

“So… what are we going to do?”

She exhales heavily, the weight of their responsibility dragging her mood down in an instant.

She shakes her head and rubs her face against his chest, trying to forget this is even happening.

After knowing each other for years, he knows exactly what she wants, so he says, “You don’t want to talk about it right now?”

She shakes her head against his chest and tries to settle in a comfortable position.

He whispers, “That’s okay.”

She lifts her head for a second, kisses his chest and lies back down.

They’ll talk about this later, and he gets his wish for just… a _little bit more time_.

~.~

It’s a few days later and they still haven’t talked about it, making a silent agreement to postpone the conversation. They don’t mean for it to be indefinitely, just… when it doesn’t make them want to sit down and cry for hours.

Rachel wakes up in a cold sweat and has a hard time adjusting to where exactly she is for a few moments, but then reality comes crashing down on her and she sighs, reaching in the dark for her phone and calling him.

He picks up after a single ring, something telling her he had a bad night, too.

“Rach?”

“Please come over.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

~.~

“I think it’s time now, Rach.”

She nods, closing her eyes.

They’re curled together on his bed, something that seems to be happening a lot lately. She would be half annoyed, except for the fact that his simple presence brings peace to her heart.   

“What do you want to do?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“I’ll do anything you want.”

She huffs, “That doesn’t exactly help, Finn.”

“I just…” he starts. “I don’t know how much of a say I’m supposed to have. It’s _your_ body and—”

“Finn,” she interrupts him. “I’m not one of _those_ people. Yeah, I’m the one with it inside my body, but I still need to know what you feel. You’re my partner after all, okay? We’re in this together.”

Silence.

“Right?”

“Yes, right.  You’re right.” He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales through his mouth and nose. “Okay, babe.”

“So… what do you think?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes.” she sighs. “Please.”

“I think… we could do it, if we wanted to.” She looks up at him, eyes wide and attentive. “But… we don’t _have_ to. Our life has really _just_ begun. I _just_ started my Master’s and you’re finishing up your undergrad. We want to move someplace else. A baby wouldn’t exactly fit perfectly into this scene; we’d have to adjust quite a lot.”

She slowly nods at his words.

“If we wanted to, we _could_ do it. I know we could, I have no doubts about it. But I… and I’m really being honest here, Rach…” he says. “I don’t think we should _have_ to do it if it’s not what we want.” he breathes. “Right now, that is.”

She remains silent through his rambling and he takes her silence as a good sign to keep going.

“This is… just a fucked up situation because we never really discussed children or that kind of future or anything, but if you want... I will do this with you. And you can be 100% sure I will love them, and I won’t resent them. But we don’t _have_ to dramatically change our lives like this _right now_.”

He tries to emphasise that right now it’s not his ideal scenario, but it could be perfect for them.

_Someday_.

She bites her lower lip and he can’t stop staring at her fiddling hands over her lap.

“I guess I’m saying is… you want to keep it? Let’s do it. You don’t? Let’s do it. I’m with you either way.” he nods decisively. “Okay?”

She keeps staring at her fiddling hands and now he’s getting nervous.

He asks quietly, “Rach?”

She suddenly brings her trembling hands to her mouth and a gasp escapes her small body, making her sob. With her body trembling all over, she closes the gap between her body and Finn’s, clenching his shirt and sobbing into his neck as her body shudders.

He closes his eyes, let’s out a painful sigh and hugs her closer, whispering against her ear that everything is going to be okay.

~.~

After Rachel calms down, she kisses Finn right on the mouth, clinging to his neck and rubbing her nose against his. She doesn’t say anything else, she just walks to her bathroom and takes a shower, feeling the absolute need to wipe off the negative and heavy energy surrounding her.

Afterwards, she sits by his side and takes both of his hands in hers. She looks deep into his eyes and exhales.

She seems to be doing that a lot lately. Inhaling and exhaling heavily like it’s going to make things better and their problem disappear.

Finn frowns, “Babe?”

“I…” she shakes her head and exhales once again. She looks up at him and tears start gathering in her eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay, Rach,” he reaches his hand to her face and rubs his fingers against her cheek. “Just talk to me.”

She blows out a burdensome breath.

“I don’t think I want it...” she whispers brokenly as tears start sliding down her face. Rachel looks up at Finn, eyes begging for forgiveness.

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to feel bad or guilty,” he says gently.

“I just… why is this happening, Finn?”

“I don’t know, Rach.”

“You know what you said earlier?” she asks quietly. Finn nods. “You said… exactly what I was feeling. _Exactly_.” He gives her a side smile. She tries to smile back, not very effectively, but it’s a try. “Thank you. Thank you for understanding. You always know the right thing to say.”

Finn gives her a full smile and leans in close, kissing her forehead.

~.~

The day of their appointment comes and goes. It actually goes by faster than Finn anticipated.

After everything, they’re back on his bed, their little safe heaven.

They’re facing each other, Rachel is tracing his face gently with the tip of her fingers as Finn closes his eyes and rubs his thumb against her hip.

They’re having a quiet and intimate moment and all the heartbreak seems to dissipate. Slowly and surely.

“Finn?”

“Hmm?” he mutters.

“Is it okay to feel sad?” she asks in a gentle voice and it breaks his heart.

He slowly opens his eyes and looks at her reassuringly. “It’s okay to feel sad, Rach. Don’t feel guilty about whatever you’re feeling.”

She nods and gives him a thankful smile.

“Okay then,” she breaths. “I’m sad, but I’m okay,” she admits quietly in the tiny space between their bodies.

Finn squeezes her hip with his hand and she draws her body impossibly closer to him, fingers finding purchase in his hair.

“I’m sad, too,” he confesses softly against her hair.

Rachel squeezes his neck and kisses the space just above his heart. It beats in the comfortable pace she’s always used and that’s when she knows for sure.

They will be fine.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. :)**


End file.
